Overcast, ch. 30: Around The Globe

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It was always the same. The titanic hand would appear, blotting out the hazy sky, and then the world would turn upside down. Literally. For a stomach churning moment, Freddy and Griff would feel like they were hurtling into the void, abruptly tossed into the air before gravity slowly lost its grip. Momentarily weightless, the pair would be helpless to do anything other than watch their surroundings dissolve, the once-solid constructs disintegrating into a cloud of glittering mirrors.

Freddy didn’t know how long it had taken for them to realize where they were and what was happening, time no longer held any meaning for him and Griff, but he didn’t like to think about it either way. It was too big, too much to try and process how small they’d become, how trapped they were, and how unlikely it was that they’d ever get out. They didn’t even know how long they’d actually been inside. With the way things constantly reset, they could have been trapped for hours or years. And when the fog of mirrors would finally begin to settle and reshape itself into a new form, their bodies did the same, leaving them feeling as if they’d just woken up for the first time. They each had hazy memories of the places, people, and things they’d been, it was how they’d eventually recognized the pattern, but those memories were distant and dreamy. They didn’t feel like lived experiences. For Freddy and Griff, every new scene was a new beginning, a jarring awakening in a constantly shifting world.

They each still remembered their previous lives with crystal clarity. Their recollection didn’t begin to blur until it reached the night when Griff had convinced the younger man to help him break into the ominous Victorian on the edge of town. The burly bear had been inside a few weeks prior when he’d delivered a washer and dryer, and he hadn’t stopped talking about the valuable hoard just ripe for the picking. Not being anything close to his first rodeo, Griff had instinctively kept an eye out for any security systems while chatting up the elderly owner, making a mental note of how frail the back windows appeared, and how easy the back door’s lock would be to bypass. He also knew the house was isolated enough that there wouldn’t be any prying eyes to see them coming or going. If they were quick and quiet, if they struck at the right time, they’d be in and out and no one would ever know.

But someone did know, and now it appeared that they’d never be getting out. Freddy was still furious with Griff for failing to mention the nature of the expensive objects they’d sought, and how it should have been immediately obvious that the man was some kind of caster. From what little he’d seen of it, the house had been packed with books, statues, symbols, and crystals, smelling of extinguished candles and exotic incense. The young blonde’s instinct had been to turn and flee, but he was already falling by the time he realized they’d walked into a lion’s den.

At first, there’d been nothing but the fog. After an impossibly slow, lengthy descent, he and Griff had landed on a spongy surface, surrounded by a swirling cloud. It was too warm to be outside, the night had been crisp and cold, and there were no sounds other than the ones they made themselves. The spicy scent that had filled the house was also absent, replaced by a slight musty odor that suggested a damp basement. The strange surroundings felt at once vast and confining, the latter proving to be the case when Freddy took off into the fog and slammed face-first into an invisible barrier a few moments later. He tried again and again, his frantic efforts eventually revealing the circular nature of the unseen enclosure. Trying to dig under the spongy, silty surface proved futile, and, even after hoisting himself onto Griff’s burly shoulders, the transparent boundary still stretched skyward.

They’d just begun to argue when the hand in the sky had appeared for the first time. Freddy barely had time for a startled shriek before the world exploded around them, tossing their suddenly weightless bodies into the air. When those bodies finally floated back down, everything was different. Instead of a hazy limbo, the pair now lay on the smooth tiled floor of what looked like a locker room shower, and instead of the clothes they’d been wearing, they were both fully nude. The unexpected transition was as jarring as it was impossible, and Freddy had told himself he was so focused on their lack of clothes simply because it was the easiest element to wrap his head around. At twenty five, the burly blonde was still in exceptional shape. As a youth, he’d been forced into every sport available as a mostly unsuccessful strategy at keeping him out of trouble, but, while the punitive aspects largely failed, the physical results spoke for themselves. Broad shoulders, big arms, tight waist, heavy pecs, perky rear; Freddy was only a half step away from pretty-boy status. If he’d put some effort into his appearance, if he’d tried to wrangle his sandy mop or moisturize his strong-jawed features he could have been stunning, but the young hunk didn’t see the need. Working in a warehouse kept him mostly in shape, he only had to refine his physique with a few trips to the gym each week, and his naturally pouty lips, bright eyes, and charming grin pulled more than enough women on their own. His fat cock certainly didn’t hurt either, an organ that he compared against his older friend’s girthy package for the first time.

Griff had two decades on the younger blonde, but the older man was still solidly built. The balding brunette had always bragged about how he’d had a body like Freddy’s when he’d been the same age, and it was clear that the paunch he’d since acquired rested on a sturdy foundation. Griff’s furry shoulders terminated in a pair of burly pistons, framing the meaty mounds that rested on the hairy hulk’s thick midsection. His lower half was just as juicy, with a pair of plump cheeks and wide thighs, all covered in the same chocolate coating that seemed determined to spread everywhere except the rugged man’s receding hairline. Griff made it work, his full, stubble-covered features in no way suffered from the thinning scalp, and, if anything, the growing bald spot only added to his aggressively masculine presence.

It was that very presence that had so confusingly captivated Freddy. Being bar friends and occasional criminal co-conspirators, the blonde had never seen the older man in any sort of undress before. He’d never wanted to, had never given it a second thought, but, as they’d sat in a daze and stared at each other, Freddy hadn’t been able to look away. He’d tried to change the subject when he’d felt his cock start to twitch, to force them to focus on their surroundings instead, only it was too late. Griff had wasted no time in mocking the younger man for his erect state, seemingly oblivious to his own aching log until Freddy pointed it out. This had led to an argument, which led to a shove, which led to a struggle, which led to something else entirely.

Freddy still didn’t know who’d crossed the line first. Writhing naked as they were, he told himself it was impossible to keep his hands from coming into contact with Griff’s stout cock, just like there was no way he could escape the older man’s hairy bulk rubbing against his own smooth muscle. He hadn’t been purposely grinding his aching member into his friend’s meaty midsection, nor had he actually been tugging on the thick organ as it found itself in his hand again and again. But, regardless of who’d tipped the scales, the end result was the same. Before he’d been able to fully process the true motivation behind their behavior, Freddy was on all fours with Griff’s aching organ inside him, begging the older man to fuck him harder. He knew it was odd, that he’d never actually wanted to get fucked by another man before, yet, at that moment, it was all he’d wanted. Griff’s hairy bulk pressing against him, the other man’s strong hands gripping his waist to hold him in place, the sensation of the pile-driver pole splitting him wide and lighting him up from the inside; it was an ecstasy like nothing he’d ever experienced. For the first time, Freddy was being taken instead of doing the taking. He was the one offering up an eager hole to be pounded. He was the one whimpering and moaning and arching his back. He was nothing more than a jocky blonde bottom getting railed by a rugged meathead in the showers. And he never wanted it to end.

It was their first hint at the true nature of their situation. With their backs turned to the shower walls, Freddy and Griff could see that they weren’t in a fully formed room, but in a partial structure. There was a tiled floor and two walls lined with shower heads that joined to form a corner, but there was no ceiling or any other walls. Looking up or in the opposite direction, all Freddy and Griff could make out were hazy shapes and forms, and the occasional outline of an impossibly huge person. After Griff had repeatedly fucked Freddy senseless, the pair had confirmed that they weren’t in a room at all; they were in a diorama. A set. The showers didn’t actually work, and the whole structure had a flimsy feel to it.

And then it changed. Once again the world exploded and the pair were thrust into the air, this time landing in the back of a pickup truck. Based on the few trees, dirt road, and slices of partially formed cars on either side, they appeared to be parked on a lover’s lane, but the pair had been much more focused on their altered bodies. Somehow, Freddy had become just as big and beefy as Griff, his trim, athletic frame doubling in size. He was thick, hairy and heavy, his panicked prodding giving way as quickly as it had in the showers. It wasn’t long before they’d both stripped down and Freddy had the older man folded in half, with the brunette’s hairy legs hoisted into the air as they tested the truck’s squeaking suspension.

Freddy had just started to grow accustomed to the way his inflated body shook and moved and rubbed against itself when everything changed again. And again. And again. Over the course of the unknown span they’d been huge, small, built, thin, soft, round, and everything in between. They’d been hung and had tiny nubs. They’d been freakishly endowed and had gaping, eager orifices instead. They’d had too many limbs and none at all. They’d been in bedrooms, board rooms, factories, fields, locker rooms, stores, bars. They’d been collared, leashed, diapered, tied down, and strung up, from tender, romantic softcore to extreme, taboo-testing hardcore. Some of the shifting scenarios lingered in their minds like pleasant dreams, while others lurked like horrifying nightmares. They never grew tired, hungry or thirsty. They never had to go to the bathroom, unless it was part of the scene, and they had seemingly endless stamina. No matter how filthy they became, each reset washed them clean, their new bodies fresh and ready for whatever romp lay in store.

As the world settled around him once again, Freddy thought they might have lucked into a mild one, though he’d learned that initial appearances couldn’t always be trusted. He was on a small twin bed, and from what he could see of his mostly-exposed body, he looked more or less as he thought he should. He was clad in a pair of white crew socks with red rings around the top, a pair of matching red briefs with white trim, and a cropped red t-shirt with “MU” stretching across his prominent pecs in white block letters. “Whoa! Who the fuck are…” He let out a startled yelp when he looked over at the nearby bed and saw an unfamiliar figure rousing. The young brunette appeared to be about his own age, with a similarly fit build that was clad in a similar outfit of white socks with blue rings, and blue briefs with white trim. The stranger didn’t have a t-shirt like himself, exposing the patch of curly brown hairy that coated his pecs and trailed down his stomach when he finally rolled over to face the blonde. “Holy shit! Griff…is that you?” Freddy asked, finally recognizing the familiar, though significantly softened and more youthful, features of his friend. Instead of forty five, the once-older man couldn’t have been a day over twenty.

“Who the fuck else would it…be…” the brunette trailed off when he heard his voice, his eyes going wide when he shook his head and finally looked down at himself. “Fuck! What is this shit,” he yelped, hopping to his feet and prodding his now-tapering torso. He looked around the half-formed space, at the cinderblock walls and generic wooden wardrobe that stood between their small beds. “Where the hell are we now?”

“What? You’ve never seen a dorm before,” Freddy asked, kicking his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. He couldn’t help but grin as he looked at his stunned friend, his brain having a hard time wrapping itself around the idea of the other man as anything other than a grunting hulk.

“I barely graduated high school,” Griff said, looking increasingly uncomfortable as he stared at his young new face in the wardrobe’s mirror. “You got a degree you never told me about?”

Freddy shrugged as he hopped to his feet. “I did a semester. Baseball scholarship. Dropped right the fuck out, though. Way too much bull…shit…whoa…” he sputtered, trailing off when he stepped behind his friend and saw his own reflection. Though the change wasn’t as dramatic since it only involved the loss of a few years, Freddy still wasn’t ready for the sight of a face he hadn’t seen since he was twenty. “Well, look at us,” he grinned, stepping close behind and putting his chin on Griff’s shoulder. “Hey…wait a second…I know this is what I looked like a few years ago. Is this how you used to look? Holy shit, man! I always thought you were just fucking with me, but you were a stud, dude!”

Griff went crimson when Freddy reached down and gave his now-perky bubble a squeeze. “Knock it off, kid,” he spat, his body going a deeper shade when he saw Freddy’s smile.

“Kid? Who you talking to, roomie? Isn’t your birthday in November? Mine’s in April, so that technically makes me the older one now,” Freddy said, tousling Griff’s now-shaggy mop. He paused and did it again, this time stroking his fingers through the chocolate mane. “Wow. Not used to you actually having hair up here. And that face! Look at how cute you are,” he cooed, relishing the way his friend squirmed.

“Are you done,” Griff sighed, rolling his eyes. Despite the show of annoyance, he hadn’t tried to pull away yet.

“Not even close,” Freddy laughed. He slid his hand down Griff’s now-firm stomach to grip the other man’s impressive bulge, giving a squeeze. “Big guy looks even bigger without that gut in the way.”

“Hey! Come on, don’t make this any weirder,” Griff sputtered, realizing the foolishness of the words even as he spoke them. He knew, just like Freddy, that this was far from their first encounter, but as the blonde gripped his rapidly twitching pouch, the fresh-faced brunette was hit with a wave of eager nerves, as if this really was the first time Freddy gripped his cock.

“Dude, lighten up! You just went back in time…you don’t want to enjoy it? It kinda feels like you want to enjoy it,” Freddy purred, slipping his hand into the other man’s briefs. He savored the sensation of the once-rugged Griff actually trembling in his arms as he fished his friend’s hair-trigger cock free, the hefty organ springing to life in his hand.

“Forgot how easy that used to be,” the brunette said with a bashful chuckle. “Forgot how easy all of this was,” he sighed, running his hands along his smoother, softer skin. He wasn’t as weathered or hairy yet, didn’t have the aches and pains that had become so normal he didn’t even notice them until they weren’t there.

“I know, right,” Freddy said, grinding his own rigid tent into one of the other man’s solid cheeks. He spun his friend to face him and guided one of Griff’s hands to his own bulge, nodding encouragingly as the brunette’s fingers slipped inside. Looking into the former bear’s bright, doe eyes as he started to give a few tentative tugs, Freddy began to understand their new assignment. Gone were the experienced studs they’d been, replaced by a pair of virile young college hunks who were bored, horny, and ready to experiment. “Fuck yeah, man. Feels good,” he sighed as his briefs were pulled down. He popped his hips to bat the throbbing organs together before picking up where he’d left off, slowly stroking the brunette’s desperate member. Their faces inches apart, he could feel the warmth of the other man’s breath against his lips, coming hot and heavy as his sculpted pecs heaved.

“This is…so weird,” Griff stammered, his rosy cheeks flushing beneath his stubble. The coating wasn’t as dense as it would be in a few years, but already the other man’s square jaw and sturdy physique radiated an imposing presence. It was a sharp contrast to his bashful grin and shaking voice, a contrast that Freddy couldn’t get enough of.

“Ohhh…I think I get it,” the blonde finally said, smirking. “This the first time Young Griff ever jerked it with another dude before?”

“Young Griff? Old Griff never…” the brunette started before cutting himself off. Since the last thing he clearly remembered was being a straight, stocky beast of a middle-aged man, he had to remind himself of all the new experiences he’d had. “Wait…are you saying that back then, you’d…?”

Freddy grinned and shrugged. “Spent a lot of time in locker rooms. We had some fun when Coach wasn’t around ,” he said. “Does that mean you’ve never done this before either?”

Griff instinctively tensed when the blonde’s lips landed on his own. He pulled his head back a moment later, his bushy brows furrowing. “Hey! What the fuck was that for,” he spat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What do you think,” Freddy chuckled. “It’s fun. Also, dude, that hand you used was just wrapped around my dick, bud. Here,” he said, stepping back and peeling out of his t-shirt and briefs. Now clad only in the socks, he stripped Griff’s briefs free before guiding the other man’s hands to his smooth, bare pecs. “That’s better. Play with my nips for me, dude,” he purred, leaning in for another kiss. Griff tensed again but didn’t pull away, reluctantly returning the kiss while doing what he was told. His hesitation regarding both rapidly faded, his tongue and fingers working in tandem. “Fuuuuuuuuuck that feels good,” Freddy sighed when he broke off the kiss, his pecs heaving as Griff toyed with the pert little nubs. “What about you? What kinda shit are you into?”

“I…I don’t really know,” Griff stammered, biting at his lower lip. “I mean, pussy, obviously. And when a chick goes down on me.”

Freddy raised an eyebrow. “Like this?” He dropped to his knees and started to lean in, but he spun Griff around instead of swallowing the brunette’s waiting rod. Before the other man could ask what was happening or try to pull away he parted the cheeks and leaned in.

“HOOoooOOHHhhwwwhat the fuck?!” he yelped, going up on his toes.

Freddy didn’t answer, at least not with words. He buried his face deeper, licking every inch of the other man’s valley clean and prodding the spasming button with his tongue. “Dude, of course you like a blow job. Who doesn’t? I’m talking about the stuff none of the other guys know. Looks like I guessed right,” he grinned, shoving the brunette onto the nearby bed. Though he’d lost a pair of decades, Freddy was still impressed by the way his friend’s athletic physique filled the space as he manhandled the brunette onto his stomach and pulled his trim hips into the air.

“But…but I’ve never…done this before,” Griff sputtered into the mattress, instinctively wagging his bubble like an excited puppy. As with Freddy, he’d come to understand each of their roles in the scenario, and he knew it was his turn to play the bashful bottom. It also wasn’t a lie, he hadn’t been fucked by another man until recently, but those kind of details didn’t matter when they were imprisoned inside a caster’s enchanted snowglobe.

“Lucky for you, I have,” Freddy grunted, diving back in. He worked Griff with his tongue before slipping in a finger, then another, then a third, well aware of the hulking, monolithic shadow that lurked behind them. He knew someone, or multiple someones, watched their every intimate activity, but that knowledge didn’t stop him. A part of him actually got off on the idea of an audience, especially when he wasn’t the one being fingered. “Ready for the real thing?”

Griff’s eyes were wide as he looked back and nodded. He trembled again when Freddy positioned himself, his fingers digging into the bedding as he felt the blonde’s cum-slick head slowly slip inside. “NNNNnnggggn….” he grunted, arching his back. “How the…how the fuck do you feel so…huge…”

“‘Cause I am,” Freddy grunted with a smug grin. “Don’t worry…that cherry’s going to loosen right up.”

Griff was glad when the blonde’s promise proved true. The pain gradually faded, allowing him to focus on the ecstatic excitement of losing his virginity all over again. He rolled his hips in time with Freddy’s thrusting, surprising himself with how good he was at taking another man. In a different life, the once-burly bear might have been a switch-hitting college stud, hopping from bed to bed regardless of who shared it with him. He could have played with the boys in the showers and the girls in the sheets, perfecting his craft with his blonde, hunky roommate night after night.

But that was just this life, this scene, and they both knew it wouldn’t last. They might spend mere hours or entire days as a pair of ripped, horny roommates, but eventually the hand would appear. It would pick them up and give a shake, and neither of them knew what scene they’d enter next. All they knew for sure is that it wouldn’t last either, and then they’d be on to the next one.